


I will find you, I will save you, and I won't let you down.

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Brainwashing, F/M, Gen, He needs fucking therapy, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, M/M, Multi, Non Graphic Body Modification, Non-Graphic Violence, Other, Past Brainwashing, Therapy, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Waterboarding (Mentions), fuck that, give him a therapist and some real time off, give the man more than a hug and a cookie, like holy hell, mentions of torture, then give him hugs and kisses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 13:31:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7270213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You told me you'd always be there for me, till the end of the line.<br/>That's what made me remember. You have to trigger a memory!" Bucky shouted as he dodged another blast from Tony. Steve stood behind the pillar, ducking as rubble flew past him. Natasha ran past them, managing to get a hold on Tony, with the added help of Rhodey.</p>
<p>     Steve racked his brain, and almost blushed at the answer. "Uhh, well, don't judge me for this, Buck." He stepped out from behind the pillar, and dashed towards Rhodes and Natasha who were keeping Tony still as Sam prepared a sedation. In one quick swoop, he grabbed Tony's face in his hands, and kissed him, right as Sam dug the needle into Tony's neck. Tony's eyes cleared just as the drug worked, and he was given a small smile of relief before passing out.</p>
<p>    A completely different set of events sets the world on high alert- the disappearance of Tony Stark a year after Sokvovia, the evidence leading to Hydra's new weapons and their striking resemblance to his past technology. However, every time Hydra uses new weapons, they fail, and the new Avengers team finds the suspected Hydra base in ruins, is it only Tony who's behind the secret destruction of Hydra?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I will find you, I will save you, and I won't let you down.

A completely different set of events sets the world on high alert- the disappearance of Tony Stark a year after Sokvovia, the evidence leading to Hydra's new weapons and their striking resemblance to his past technology. However, every time Hydra uses new weapons, they fail, and the new Avengers team finds the suspected Hydra base in ruins, is it only Tony who's behind the secret destruction of Hydra? 

Starts right after the events of AoU. Leads into CA:CW.

\-----

One thing Tony knew, the one thing he had to remember, from everything he gathered from his slightly under-used Italian, (thank god for his heritage,) was that he had a short window of time to escape after they injected him with the serum. They couldn't brainwash him before-he'd die, and they knew they couldn't. 

They were in Italy. They had to be-the guards only spoke Italian. No Russian, no English, only Italian. He remembers his father only mentioning his Spanish background to the media, though it made sense at the time- publishing his and his wife's Italian backgrounds would only mean they'd be under investigation post-WWII. So there had been no reason to not speak Italian around him-they didn't know he knew it.

Though most people thought his intelligence went as far as creating technology and weapons. He once had a goddamn electromagnet in his chest- he had sensors in his arms, he knew biology pretty well. He went to college at fifteen. He was an actual certified genius. It was kind of insulting they'd think he'd only know English. (And a little racist they think the only other language he'd know is Spanish.)

He knew the serum was inevitable. The head doctor, whom he called Doctor Jackass, told him he'd never be subjected to it as long as the weapons he'd make for them work. They'd never work, he had made sure of it. Every gun he designed failed to shoot, every bomb or missile blew up in air, every biological weapon only effected the user.

It was all worth it, knowing whomever they used them on would be safe. Every hit of a whip, every time his head went underwater, he knew he was taking Hydra lives while also saving civilian and the Avengers lives. He learnt everything he could about the Winter Solider process. From scientists who whispered to each other in corners while he drew his next failure weapon, to guards who taunted him-yet again in the language he was fluent in.

The range of time for the serum to set in was an hour to a full day. The heavier a person was, the bigger they where, the longer it took. However, it was more painful for the smaller subjects. So, at his size, he estimated a range of two hours to three hours for the serum to set in. Two to three hours of pain. 

He'd be strapped down, but he'd be able to break the straps once it was done. He had been slowly breaking the bars on his window cell since he first woke up, right after he fell into the water. He'd run, and wouldn't stop running until he was in public. There, he'd figure out a way to get home. 

If he got captured again, he'd make sure that the one thing he'd remember is his name. His full name. Anthony Edward Stark. It'd be everywhere-at least the name Stark. It would be something to hold onto, something to clutch and not let go. They'd never make him forget. So many things attached to Stark- Pepper. SI. Name on phones, on any piece of tech that was just too advanced for it's surroundings. People in his memories referring to him as Stark.

They couldn't take that from him.

\-----

He's never felt more sympathetic to Steve since finding out Barnes was alive. The serum hurts. His body is on fire, his blood hardens with his muscles, his eyes flashing between staying wide open or tightly shut. Screams that burst his eardrums. Enhanced everything. He ends up being right, though. It lasted two hours, thirty six minutes and twelve seconds, right in between one and three hours. 

He times it all right. Just as the last of the fire in his blood wears off, he breaks the restraints, aiming one at the bars in the cell, and it shatters. Alarms blast just as he finishes screaming. He leaps, and he's right out the window when the cell door slams open, and he hears a few shouts over the alarms. He runs, runs past a few guards who are took shocked to shoot, past scientists who, instead of stopping him, begin to write frantically. 

He's in the woods now. He can't stop, won't stop, until he's in population again. In the nearest city or town. He'll rest there, wether it be in a street or if he manages to persuade someone to let him in. Legs, chest, knees, feet, arms, wrists, hands- all are warm, all are tight. Tony doesn't stop, even when a shot rings out-goddamn snipers, on the back of his head. It might just be a clip, he's not dead, and Tony knows that even....him isn't immune to bullets.

It isn't until midnight, when he is in small townhouse barn, that he realizes he forgot whom he was referring to. Then, everything fades away-not slowly, not kindly, it's memories, he can feel, hear, the physical locks and chains being put on memories. Names, history, all blend and tear and lock. He's left with faces- a young man, giving him a hug in an empty dorm, waiting to be set up.

A woman, eyes red, a smile. A red haired woman, beautiful and deadly, but a warm hand on his shoulder. A curly-haired man with glasses, laughing silently at a joke. A short-haired blonde man attempting to shoot a bow with his feet. A tall, very tall, very broad man, laughing with him. A younger blonde, but still tall, putting his hand on top of his, concern written across his face.

He needs to keep these memories. Needs them, requires them. He may not know their names, or why, how-he knows them, but he holds on tight. He then remembers one last thing before allowing himself to speak. His name is Anthony. He knows-Anthony knows there's more, than no one only has one name, and maybe his is shorter somehow. Anthony is what he remembers. 

He sleeps and wakes with the sun. As well as the tall, broad man with shoulder length hair, blocking the barn door.  
\----

Steve doesn't sleep well sometimes. While, he's not having nightmares every time he shuts his eyes, and the serum gives him a healthy amount of sleep in only six hours, it's still tough. He dreams of Bucky and Tony, both changed, both being controlled and tortured. His Bucky, his Tony. His Bucky, his best friend, his brother. Hydra's weapon. Tony- who had gone from an annoyance, to his teammate, to his friend-to something more. That had been fun to explain to Rhodes. 

It had been a month and a half since Tony had gone missing- and Rhodes had come across a photo Dummy had taken-of Steve reading while Tony had finally fell asleep in his arms, on the couch in the garage. Rhodes was in general, happy, but did give a very threatening talk. They were planning on telling everyone soon, but the day before they planned, Tony disappeared. It had been nice, then. Tony had survived three months in Afghanistan, so a month and a half was still easy. 

They had been so wrong.

It had been nine months. Nine months of jokes about Tony just taking a break, or forgetting to contact him, or that'd he blast in with a new iron man suit, all going away after month three. Month four involved as much quick research, unplanned raids, and desperate searches. Month five was recovery, including looking for a body. Month six was the easiest, they had ruled out death. Month seven is when they recognized the old weapons, used by Hydra, but they were failing.

Month seven was hard. They knew the weapons were designed to fail-but that also meant Tony would get punished for it. Every weapon they saw fail, they knew Tony would be in extreme pain for. Month eight was tracking. Tracking where the weapons were coming from, where they'd end up, who was going where. While they were eradicating Hydra bases, they weren't getting the right one.

Month nine, personally to Steve, was the worst. He was so afraid that he'd see Tony like he saw Bucky-brainwashed, hurt, and unlike himself. He held onto the last memory he had with Tony like it was a good luck charm.

He's standing in between Tony's legs, who's sitting on his work bench. Tony is attempting to work with a hologram behind Steve's head, but is laughing, messing up. He's kissing up Tony's neck, wrapping his hands around Tony's face. "Steve." He laughs. "Come on, I have to work!"

"Nope. We have an hour before everyone else shows up, and I want that time together. Plus, you and I need to shower." He's stopped kissing, and quickly lifts Tony's off the workbench with ease. He throws a laughing Tony over his shoulder, grinning just the same. "We can do both at the same time. You also promised me you'd let me do your hair this time." He sets Tony down in the bathroom, and smiles.

"I love you." Tony says, and kisses him deep on the lips. 

"I love you."

Steve falls asleep to the memory and wakes up to a frantic Wanda.

\-----

Anthony looks to a tall, broad man standing a few feet away from him, setting down bags of purple fruit, along with a backpack and some pads of paper. He has a metal arm, or at least a metal hand-that peeks out of his jacket. There's also a change of clothes, a few hats and pants. "Как тебя зовут , маленькая птичка?" He asks, in Russian. He understands name, and little bird. He doesn't know much Russian, so he replies in Italian. 

"Il mio nome è Anthony." The man raises an eyebrow, but smiles. He grabs a shirt, a pair of pants and a hat. Walking over, he kneels, and Anthony allows him to set the clothes down, and rests both hands on his knees, looking him in the eyes.

"Do you know English?" Yes. He nods. The man's smiles again. His hair is dark and curly, shoulder length. "Good. I'm glad you got out before they could wipe you. I'd been helping you break those bars on the cell for the past couple of weeks. Do you remember?" The man asks. Anthony shakes his head-he doesn't remember much after escaping. It's blurred. 

"I have some stuff to help you remember. My name is James, by the way." The man- James, stands straight and walks towards where he set the fruit and supplies down. "Plums are good for memory. Every time I remember something, even if it's small, I write it down. I'm gaining my memories back, slowly, but it's helping."

James hands the backpack over and allows him to flip through a pad of paper. He writes his name first, Anthony, at the top. James nods, and holds out his hand to help him stand. "They shot you with some sort of memory-erasing drug. What information I managed to gather was it takes out social memories. Hopefully you can gain those back." Anthony nods, and quickly takes the clothes, changing. His body is still thin, and from what he can remember, he was supposed to be all muscle and broad like James, and the one blonde man, but it didn't work.

"How?" He asks. "Why am I like this?" James looks at him, sadly, and puts his warm, flesh hand on his arm. Anthony looks up, still the same height he was before- a flash of standing on tip toes to reach the bars, and having to leap to get out only hours before. James hands him a plum.

"There are a lot of bad people in this time-world," He corrects himself. "And we're unfortunate enough to be victims, but I think you were one before all of this. Now, I can't help you remember, but I can help you try." James tells him, shouldering his backpack. "Now, I have to tell you-when they had me, I did some pretty terrible things. I had no control over myself. So, there are people looking for me. I won't let you go down with me, little bird. Okay?" 

Anthony nods, shouldering his new backpack. "How'd you know I was there? In the cell?" James turns from the door of the barn, pausing in thought. "How'd you know how to find me?" 

"I saw you when you were first taken. I think I recognized the first you-the real one, so I followed. I can't let what happened to me happen to someone else." James explains, opening the barn door. "Now, I don't know much Italian. You'll have to be our translator until we get to Germany." Anthony nods, straightening his jacket and walking through the barn door. It's strange, but something sparks in the back of his mind when he sees James. It's not like the blonde man, it's like he saw a photo-something to do with the blonde man. They're connected.

He's sure of it.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like it!


End file.
